Were it Not for Love
by MooMoogle
Summary: What were to happen, had not Aslan sacrificed himself in Edmund's place? This is Edmund and Peter's story, unfolding the fate of the sweet country of Narnia...However terrible it may be. .:Complete:.
1. Traitor's Blood

**Title:** Were it Not for Love

**Author:** MooMoogle

**Rating: **PG

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em, but I love 'em.

**Summary:** What were to happen, had not Aslan sacrificed himself in Edmund's place? This is Edmund and Peter's story, unfolding the fate of the sweet country of Narnia...However terrible it may be.

**A/N:** When I sat down to write a Narnia FanFiction, this never crossed my mind...Yet, as I began seeking a subject to work on, it just struck me how _different_ Narnia would have been, were it not for the love of Aslan...And how different we would be were it not for the crucifixion of Jesus. Well, here it goes...

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Edmund had never been more miserable in his life.

Not when the air raids began, not when he was sent away from home, not when Peter took up his rightful role as leader…Not even when his father left for war.

He seemed to be misery itself as he was ushered along through the quiet, dark wood, silence pounding in his ears. His wrists stung with rope burns as the coils that bound them, tied tightly behind his back, cut deep into his flesh.

Ginnarbrik, who was contentedly walking along behind the boy, gave the rope a vicious jerk as Edmund stumbled on the path, causing him to wince in pain. "Get on," the dwarf growled; Edmund could not help but notice the twinge of amusement in the rough voice.

At least he was some what content by the White Witch's absence. She had left late last night, after exchanging words in an undertone with Ginnarbrik.

Edmund, for the moment, could care less where she was. She was gone, for now, and that was pleasant enough.

Soft moonlight scattered along the dirty ground, filtering through the forest's leaves. The innocent light seemed to mock him as Edmund struggled forward. He was tired, his breath heavy with exhaustion, and continually roots and rocks snared his foot, giving the dwarf a 'reason' to tug mercilessly at Edmund's raw wrists.

But why were they hurrying? Ginnarbrik, being a dwarf, was fairly easier to keep pace than with the tall Witch, but the he also never seemed to tire nor slow. The question continued to pound in the youth's head. He had only managed to catch a few words the Witch had said to her servant last night…

The most prominently used, much to Edmund's shame, had been _traitor_.

He knew he was- he could deny it no longer. After the harsh treatment from the Witch, he finally saw the true love his siblings had offered him. Yet, he chose the shallow copy, and now…now he was tasting the cruelty of his own actions.

'_I suppose Peter and the others are with that Lion…Aslan, that was his name,'_ thought Edmund bitterly. _'Peter…he's always tried to lead us. No doubt he led Susan and Lucy safely. But…But he was just so…bossy! He was trying to take Dad's place.' _A soft growl vibrated in the boy's throat.

'_No one can replace Dad.'_

Joseph Pevensie had dark, raven hair that curled softly at the edges and deep, brown, soulful eyes that sparkled with pride. Edmund had inherited his appearance from his father, which he had once bore proudly.

And now, Edmund loathed looking anything like his gentle Father…He did not deserve such an honour.

In spite of himself, he felt Peter did.

'_Of course…Peter. He…I suppose…He did only want us to be safe.' _Edmund choked on his very thoughts as tears slowly filled behind those brown eyes. _'He only wanted me to be safe. It…it must be hard. Being oldest. Watching over three younger siblings.' _Edmund swallowed thickly.

'_Dealing with a brat of a younger brother.'_

He himself could remember, many, many years before, before Joseph had left for war, when he and his brother had played and laughed with each other…

"_C' on, Peter, fas'er! You'll ne'er ca'ch me at tha' ra'e!" _

_Edmund laughed as he ran through the grass, just out of his older brother's reach. The elder boy simply grinned, redoubling his efforts. Edmund, at an age of six, dared a glance back, smirking. "Keep tryin'!"_

_Peter's china blue eyes flashed with determination, and with a yelp, lunged at his brother. The two fell, rolling through the soft heather in fits of laughter. "Aha! I've got you, my little devil," Peter announced in triumph, pinning his giggling brother to the ground. He reached one hand over to ruffle his brother's hair. _

"_Hey!" Edmund cried in protest, ducking in attempt to avoid the hand, but Peter managed to run his fingers through the dark locks, leaving it quite a mess. Edmund scowled, trying to fix his hair, then slowed, a smirk adorning his features. He jumped at Peter with a cry, and the two once more were lost in the romp, their laughter heard for a mile around…_

A single, shining tear finally tumbled over onto Edmund's cheek, his face bearing utter sorrow and regret.

They could still have been that way…

He was torn out of his trance as he tripped, and, with a yelp, fell forward onto the cold, dirty ground. Pain again seemed to erupt within him, and a soft groan emitted from his throat.

Ginnarbrik also shared Edmund's displeasure. He, along with yanking at the rope, brought his whip down fiercely across Edmund's back. The youth restrained a cry of pain, blinking his tears back furiously.

He could have been with his family, with the three that truly loved him…

"Get up, Son of Adam! You really are a mess of pity…" the dwarf snapped. A malicious smirk crept across his lips. "You shan't want to keep them waiting…"

At these last words, the forest fell utterly silent…No, it wasn't silent. Edmund raised his head, slowly scrambling to his feet. He strained his ears, and finally caught a breath of sound.

Screeching, howling, braying voices reached his consciousness, though they were far off. He could not quite place the…things that were causing the noise. Even so, his pulse quickened, his breath filling with fear. Wide eyed, he glanced at Ginnarbrik, who only smirked, flicking the whip. "Go on."

Much to his resent, Edmund began to walk forward again. The dwarf seemed to have gotten enthusiasm from the wails, ushering the boy faster. With each step, the noises grew louder…closer…

A soft light glowed through the final row of trees. Edmund narrowed his eyes, squinting at it. It was firelight…torch light. Ginnarbrik snickered, and pushed the youth through.

Edmund's eyes widened in shock and utter fear, a soft cry even escaping his lips at the sight before them. Just beyond, set on a small hill, was a stone table; _the_ Stone Table…But it was not alone in company. Beasts he recognized from the Witch's camp surrounded it, releasing a roar of triumph as the dwarf and boy emerged from the wood.

But it was not the creatures that held his attention…

Standing on the formation was, undoubtedly, the Witch herself. Malicious, cold eyes turned sharply towards Edmund, flaming with fierce joy at the sight of him. Her face was calm, most apparently undaunted by the shrieks of her minions. Slowly, Edmund let his gaze drop a little…

Clasped in her hands was a silver dagger, its sharp edges reflecting the firelight.

"Behold…The Traitor." Her voice rang out clearly, and Edmund winced; the very words stung him. Ginnarbrik dropped his whip, drawing his knife as Edmund trembled, raising his foot to retreat into the wood. Placing the blade against the boy's back, he hissed, "No going back."

With a cry, Edmund was forced forward, his face filled with terror he had never possessed. The monsters parted, leaving a clear passage to the Table. The jeers and taunts seemed to engulf him, filling him to the brim with despair and anguish.

He needed Peter.

But Peter was not here. Peter would never be here. He didn't deserve to be here.

And Edmund did.

"Bind him," was the Witch's next command, her voice cool and rich with contentment. Edmund found himself forced to his knees, the beasts milling around him, more ropes adding to the ones that already imprisoned his wrists; a gag preventing any cries of resentment and fear. With a groan, Edmund collapsed. He could do nothing…he was exhausted…he was helpless.

The Witch's eyes glinted with malice. "Bring him to me." Edmund found himself dragged forward, wincing as the ground jolted his wounds. The brays of the creatures increased as he finally reached the Stone Table. He was pulled up onto it, his eyes hazed with exhaustion and shock, looking absently over the crowds of beasts.

Jadis acknowledged the helpless boy with contained satisfaction. With a fierce movement, she straightened one arm, demanding for silence; the ranting beasts quieted, the atmosphere going noiseless.

_Thud_.

A steady, slow beat had begun, only breaking the silence briefly.

She crouched, placing a white, cold hand on Edmund's shoulder. He flicked his gaze at her, his eyes widening once more in fear.

"Do you, Son of Adam, know why you're here?" she asked, her voice quivering from restrained delight. Her lip curled in a sneer. "It is because you turned over your very siblings…For sweeties." His face filled revulsion and guilt, lowering his gaze.

"You are a _traitor_, Edmund…And every traitor's blood is my property," she continued. Tears brimmed his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

_Thud._

"Obviously, your _selfish_ desires are much more important than the lives of others."

Edmund blinked, sorrow clutching his soul…The fox…Tumnus…And for all he knew, his siblings.

A rustle, ever so faint, yet ever so prominent, caught his attention. The bushes far beyond at the edge of the forest swayed slightly, a pair of eyes sparkling through the leaves. In his state of overwhelmed emotion, Edmund's vision seemed to sharpen…

Everything faded from view except those china blue eyes.

'_Peter!' _The realization surged through him.

But his brother's eyes were not filled with that starling determination or loving laughter…They were overflowing with horror.

_Thud._

The deep browns locked with the hauntingly blue...Sorrow, fear, and horror mirrored from both.

_'Peter...'_ Guilt lapsed into his eyes as well, bringing alarm into his brother's.

The Witch moved her hand up his shoulder...He shuddered from the touch. She smirked. "But I suppose you haven't done terrible damage, considering the favor you have done for me…" Edmund tore his gaze from Peter, staring at the Witch in alarm and self-disgust. She continued, "Your _death_ is my passage to control over Narnia. By the simple act you've done, you have broken the long foretold prophecy which stated that you and your siblings were to become the Monarchs of Narnia."

Edmund lowered his eyes in both grief and disgrace, momentarily afraid to raise his gaze back to Peter. What had he done…?

"But I suppose that wouldn't be good enough for one such as you…You wouldn't have any servants," scoffed the Witch, withdrawing her hand and returning to her feet.

Edmund held back his tears, though it was a struggle now. He gazed into his brother's eyes once more, his breathing heavy with the weight of his emotions.

_Thud._

"Tonight, the Deep Magic, will be appeased!" A roar of fierce joy rose from the creatures, though Edmund was no longer listening…

"_Peter, where you goin'?"_

_A three year old Edmund stared, watching his brother quizzically as Peter bustled around their room. Edmund's deep brown eyes sparkled with interest and question as his brother answered without looking up,_

"_To school, silly! 'Member, its m' first day…"_

_Edmund idly swung his feet, which were a good foot above the ground, rocking slightly on his bed. He looked up sharply, a look of hope and sorrow on the youth's face. _

"_Petah come back?" he asked, his bottom lip quivering. Peter ceased his 'quest' for a pencil and looked up, grinning._

"_Of course, Eddy, I'll be back later today. I don't _live_ at school!" The younger broke into a wide smile, leaping off his bed. "Come on, you little devil," Peter teased, taking his brother's hand in his own. The two walked together out of their room and down the small hallway and into the kitchen._

"And tomorrow, we will take Narnia…Forever!" The Witch let the last note ring out clearly, yet Edmund still tuned her out…

_Their mother stood, waiting patiently, as the boys emerged. "Mum, I can't find my pencil…Do you have one?" Peter asked hopefully. Helen smiled, handing one to her eldest. _

_Edmund looked at her. "Mum, can I go to sc…shool with Peter?" he asked, fumbling over the foreign word. Helen laughed quietly, crouching down to her sons' height. Gently, she stroked his raven hair lovingly. _

"_Not for a few more years, darling," she explained. His face fell. "Oh, Edmund, it'll be fine…Susan is staying, too. And your Father is coming home today." He grinned in anticipation, his mood lightened considerably._

_She turned back to Peter, taking his small hand in her own. "Now, Peter…Be a good boy. Listen close and you'll do perfect."_

_She gave a start at the fiery determination that flamed in her son's china blue eyes. "I'll be fine, Mum," he promised. She smiled, satisfied._

_No sooner had Peter began down the walk from his front door, Edmund burst after him, crying, "Petah, wait! Peter!"_

_Peter turned sharply to face his brother, whose cheeks were flushed. "Ed, go back inside; Mum said you're not allowed to come."_

_Edmund brushed off the retort, gazing up at his brother. "Petah _promise_ to come home soon?"_

_Peter's expression softened at the hopeful, loving face. "I _promise_ I'll be home later," he said gently, wrapping his arms around Edmund's shoulders, pulling him into an embrace. The younger sighed a breath of contentment, leaning his head into Peter's chest._

_Peter smiled, resting his cheek on the ebon colored hair, his anxiety of the day ahead fading. "Alright, my little devil…You should go back." Resentfully, Edmund released his brother, watching as Peter made his way down the sidewalk…_

_Thud._

The Witch looked down at him, bearing her dagger over Edmund. "In that knowledge…"

Edmund trembled out of utter sorrow and terror. What had _happened _between him and his brother! What had happened between him and his family…The memories in his mind swirled, retracing what he had said only a few days past…

"_Yeah, of course! Didn't I tell you about the football field in the bathroom cupboards?"_

"_Shut up! You think you're Dad, but you're NOT!"_

"_Some little children just don't know when to stop pretending…"_

"_You didn't believe her either!"_

His tears threatened to spill over…Those deep, brown eyes once more sought out his brother's far beyond in the underbrush, locking onto them once more…

"Despair…"

'_Oh, Peter…' _Edmund slightly shook his head, his guilt and terror lapsing into one again. "I'm so, so sorry," he mouthed, barely moving his lips due to the gag…

Even through the creatures, the distance, he knew his brother had gotten the message.

Edmund had seen the tears well in Peter's eyes.

"And…"

'_Oh, Peter…I love you…I'm so sorry…' _Edmund's breathing grew fast and heavy as light reflected from the deadly blade above him. "I'm so sorry…"

"DIE!"

Edmund gasped, drawing a sharp breath of pain and shock as the blade drove into his side, as though piercing his very soul…His eyes widened as unbearable agony coursed through him, but his gaze remained fixed on his brother.

Peter's eyes filled with so many emotions Edmund had never thought possible for his brother to feel…Anguish…Loss…Terror…_Horror…_

The last flickers of energy began to fade rapidly, his spirit ebbing away. The noise, the sight, the pain…It all disappeared. Ever so slowly, a final breath escaped his lips, and his dark, soulful eyes closed forevermore.

'_I am… so…so sorry…'_

_

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_Note: Ahh, I can't believe I killed Ed! Well...Anyway, please review! This is NOT a one shot! There is still more to come! I hope you review...I need some...ah, what's the word...I guess 'inspiration' could work... grins**_  
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	2. Of Brothers

**Title: **Were it Not For Love

**Author: **MooMoogle

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer: **Again, I don't own 'em, but I love them.

**A/N:** Whew! I can't believe I made so many people that sad! I feel terrible+Laughs+ Ah, I am the center of all misery! Anyway, I'm warning you- Major fluff between Ed and Peter. YES HE'S DEAD! But, it's a dream, but it's a REAL dream, in a way...I did not do Peter's POV, because I stink writing like that. I overuse the word 'I', and it gets jumbled, but it's CENTERED more around Peter. But I did appreciate the reviews, and I would definatly enjoy more! Also, kudos to my favorite Authors for helping me see how to flow my work better...It helps when it doesn't jump from place to place a lot. XD Also, forewarning- I am definatly not good at writing for Peter, and I might be way off on his character. I am very sorry, but Eddy is my best bet- probably why I'm drawing him back into the story- Hey, I don't want my writing to be known only for it's devestation+laughs+

Argh, this was so hard to write, too. I was having major writer's block, so the ending may be a bit disappointing, so I'm very sorry if the story is rather weak this chapter. Please read and review, though! I love reviews!

Well, I'll shut up and let ya'll read.

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Chapter Two: Of Brothers  
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His china blue eyes widened in pure horror as he watched the dagger fall, its blade almost gleaming with delight as it descended. "NO!" screamed Peter, stumbling backwards as his brother's ebon eyes closed…And yet, his voice seemed to have left him from his utter shock, only a gasp escaping his protesting lips.

A fierce roar of triumph echoed out across to the trembling boy. "The Traitor is dead!" The Witch's cold words no longer attempted to restrain her cruel joy. Anger flamed in Peter's cerulean eyes, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. An urge wanted him to go to the Table, to draw the very sword he held and avenge his brother…

But he knew he would be outnumbered very, _very_ easily. With a shuddering sigh, Peter crumpled in the underbrush, his sides heaving with silent sobs, succumbing to his grief.

The young man remained there, shedding his tears silently until the final sounds of the retreating enemy Army vanished. Managing to bring his sobs to a pause, he shakily clambered to his feet, leaving a hand on a tree for support. He kept his gaze on the ground beneath him, afraid to even glance at the scene just a little ways beyond.

He was _afraid;_ afraid just to even look.

Finally mustering up his courage, Peter released his fierce grip on the bark. His steps started out slow, resenting to face the true image…But his emotions washed through him, and he released his grip on sanity, increasing his pace to a run.

Only when he was within feet of the Stone Table did he slow…Only when he was within feet of the lifeless body that lay upon the formation.

His streaming tears fell, if possible, more profusely at the sight of his brother. There on the Stone Table, Edmund looked so small, so _fragile_…Like a piece of glass.

A piece of shattered glass.

Unable to support himself, he collapsed next to Edmund, threatening to burst into wracking sobs. He surveyed his brother…Wounds and bruises seemed to cover the twelve year old.

"Oh, _Edmund_," he whispered, thoroughly horrified at his condition. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword, cautiously cutting away the tight ropes that bound his brother. He worked slowly, so very careful as to not afflict another wound, but refused to stop.

Only did he pause when he had tossed aside the bonds that had held Edmund's wrists prisoner for days…Soft sobs finally began to escape Peter, his tears blurring his vision. The skin had been worn away for the most part, having left them a bloodied, wretched mess.

Lastly, he untied the gag from Edmund's cracked lips, casting the cloth to the ground, leaving his brother's head in Peter's lap.

With a single, quivering hand, he ran his fingers tenderly through the dark locks of hair, stroking it ever so softly. He had done this so many times, whether it was to annoy or comfort his little brother…

'_I am so, so sorry…'_ He had seen, almost clearly, the last words his brother had addressed to him. He tipped the boy's calm face towards him, gazing into it with utmost grief.

"I…I know Ed….I know," he said quietly, his sides already shaking from silent sobs. But something shining caught Peter's attention as he looked into the scarred face…

There, on Edmund's cheek, was a soft stream of tears, gently reflecting the moon's glow. He had _cried_; he had cried at the very end.

Finally unable to restrain his sorrow, Peter burst into wracking sobs, pulling Edmund close to him in a fierce embrace. His wails echoed across the wood behind him, but he no longer cared if anyone heard him; friend or foe.

He remained there, burying his head into his brother's shoulder, seeking any flicker of life. It was a foolish thing to do, but he seemed to have lost his grip on reality. He took in the familiar scent of that same boy that had laughed and romped with him so many years ago…

Finally he slumped, reduced to hiccupping sobs. His cries softened as he looked up at the starry sky. _'I…should be getting back. Susan and Lucy need to know,'_ he thought faintly. _'Aslan needs to know.'_

Peter returned his attention to his little brother he held close, gently brushing a stray lock of hair out of Edmund's tranquil face. "Oh, Eddy..." Peter whispered, unable to trust his own voice. After a moment's hesitation, he gathered himself and stood, carrying Edmund protectively in his arms.

He descended the small stair of the Stone Table, beginning to cross the green that led into the wood. As he reached the forest's boundary, his brother's head fell limply against Peter's chest. The elder boy threatened to burst into tears as he glanced down at his brother. Softly, he murmured, "Oh, my little devil...You were just out of my reach."

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Peter crept silently through the quiet camp; it was still the middle of the night, and obviously he had been the only one to catch the faint howls of the enemy Army. Every now and then, the faint rustle of a satyr or the whinny of a horse would catch his attention, and he would dash into the shadows- he didn't want anyone to know about Edmund…yet. 

As he approached Susan and Lucy's tent, he faltered. Biting his lip with anxiety, he stood still, waiting to assure that they were sound asleep before passing.

He kept glancing down at his brother, as though wishing he would just breathe…As he rose his gaze once more, he faltered, nearly yelping in shock.

Aslan's golden eyes gazed at him as the lion stood just a small ways before him. Peter opened his mouth to say something- anything- but his voice seemed to have left him. Numbly, he returned the powerful gaze, unable to do much else.

"Peter." The very word seemed to have so much meaning… "Whom do you carry?"

Peter, quite unready for the question, remained silent for a moment before he said quietly, "Edmund."

He could sense the small flicker of uncertainty in the lion's eyes. "I will assume that is your brother." Peter nodded. "Is he alright?"

A buzz of annoyance flamed inside the boy. His brother, his little brother, was lying, not breathing, in his arms. "No." Aslan remained silent, and Peter hesitantly continued; "He's…he's…" The lump in Peter's throat grew, and he quit talking.

Aslan continued to gaze at him, though now with a somber note. "Do not grieve terribly…Though his loss will be mourned. Without him…The fate of Narnia will be altered very much so."

"Aslan, how can I not grieve? Edmund is… gone! There is nothing more I can say to him! He will never know…" Peter's voice lowered to a whisper. "He will never know that I forgive him…That I love him."

A soft growl vibrated from the lion, causing a tremendous bout of alarm to course through Peter. "He never will know you love him?"

Peter faltered. "I…I don't know. I …I feel like I was too hard on him. And now…" A fresh flow of tears began, and he again stopped, unable to continue.

"There is hope, Peter." A flicker of hope sparkled in his mourning blue eyes.

"Your brother no longer belongs here in this world- It is not his place. But just because he is considered fallen here does not mean his spirit lives on elsewhere."

Peter's brow furrowed. "He…He can come back?"

Aslan shook his great head. "Sadly, nay. Peter, he has died. He cannot come back. He has been murdered, however, in cold blood; there are ways. It is difficult to explain, but I am sure you will understand soon. The only thing that may prevent it will be his treachery. But for now, go back to your shelter and rest. We will spread the grave news tomorrow morning."

The Lion's words were sure and steadfast, but as Peter looked closer, he saw the great, shining tears within those deep, golden eyes. The boy bit his lip, still rather confused, but turned, walking very slowly towards his own tent…And after a moment's pause, the soft treading of Aslan's paws could be heard moving away.

* * *

_Peter stood amid the many trees of an old, forgotten forest. Their long, thick limbs were covered in odd looking leaves, seeming to shimmer with their own light, blotting out the night sky. He was sitting tiredly against a large trunk of an ancient oak, staring up at the foliage. 'This is odd…' he thought faintly, but it was peace…And that seemed to settle him._

"_Peter." The silence snapped, causing Peter to wince. He leapt to his feet, his alarm raised. A hand dropped to his side, seeking Rhindon's hilt, but only met thin air. _

_His nerves pranced uneasily as he called out, "Speak your name!"_

_A raven haired boy stepped coolly from the dark shadows, his eyes downcast. The light, even so, was still dim, and Peter could not quite make out the figure. He remained silent, waiting impatiently for a reply._

"_Peter, it's me." Edmund finally raised his gaze to him, and though his face was dauntingly calm, his eyes were full of hurt and regret. "Don't you even remember me?"_

_His china blue eyes opened wide as Peter stared at his brother. "Bloody…" he murmured, blinking. "Ed? Edmund!"_

_Edmund smiled weakly, nodding slightly. Peter pulled the boy into a warm embrace, running his fingers through the dark hair. "Ed…I don't think I've ever been so happy to see you," he murmured. The younger grinned sheepishly._

_Yet Peter sensed the growing guilt in his brother…Edmund suddenly broke away, his smile faded. "Don't," he said quietly._

_He received a quizzical look from his elder brother, though he chose to ignore it. "Ed?" He began to lay a comforting arm around Edmund's shoulders, but the boy shied away._

"_Stop it, just stop," he muttered, a note of misery entwined in the plea. He turned away from the sanded haired boy, lowering his gaze again to the grassy ground. Peter remained motionless, staring at his brother with guilt. Edmund dropped to his knees, sitting motionless. Finally, he whispered, "I don't deserve to be happy."_

_Peter moved next to his brother, sitting beside him. "Oh, Edmund…" Edmund paused, but still refused to look up. _

"_Peter, I am so, so sorry," Edmund whispered. "I really am…" Tears were flowing down the boy's face now. Peter bit his lip, his eyes watering with sympathy. Gently, he placed his arm around the boy's shoulders, and Edmund leaned into him, trembling. _

"_Peter, do you forgive me?" Peter looked down at his brother, meeting the eyes so identical to their Father's at long last. _

"_Of course, Ed," he assured softly, stroking the dark hair. "Of course." _

_Edmund smiled weakly, whispering, "Thank you, Peter." Quite suddenly, the boy crumpled against his brother, his body shaking with wracking sobs he had long held. Almost out of instinct, Peter pulled his brother closer as he cried, moving a tender hand up and down Edmund's back. _

"_There," he murmured, a steady stream of tears falling from his own eyes as he repressed sobs. "Shh…" Edmund dug his fingers into the soft leather tunic his brother wore, burying his head in Peter's shoulder. More nonsense meant for comfort escaped Peter's lips as he slowly consoled his brother, the sobs beginning to drone away._

_Finally, Edmund' cries receded as he lay in Peter's protective arms. He sniffed, falling limp. After a few minutes silence, he whispered, "It hurt, Peter."_

_Peter's tears fell faster, reaching a hand up to stroke his brother's raven hair. "It hurt me, too."_

_Edmund pulled his head away, staring at his brother with eyes red from crying. Peter forced a small, weak smile, though it faded quickly. _

"_Ed, when I found you there…I couldn't believe what that Witch had done to my little brother. It was so clear you had endured a living hell…But to…to…to _kill_ you…" Edmund lowered his eyes to the ground, his guilt gripping him again- "That…she _will_ pay at the Battle." _

"_Peter, I _deserved_ to be there! I was a bloody _traitor_! She told me, right before she…did it, that it was a law- all traitors are hers." Edmund's face went the wrong sort of shape that it does when you try to hold back tears. "And I just…_betrayed_ you! And Su! And Lucy!" A growl of self hate vibrated in his throat._

"_I was doomed to die."_

_More tears spilled from Peter's cerulean eyes, causing a fresh stream to flow from Edmund's. In desperation, Edmund turned away, unwilling to watch his brother suffer grief. He felt Peter's hand clasp his shoulder and gave a start, but did not pull away. _

"_I've already forgiven you, Ed."_

_The words were so full of that oh-so-familiar firmness, and yet, they were so soft, so _understanding_…Edmund turned back to his brother, his face finally filled with true peace._

"_Thank you, Peter…" Peter smiled…And after a moment's pause, Edmund returned it._

"_I know _you're_ not in the wrong though…You were just trying to look after us; and poor Lucy…" Edmund murmured, looking rather regretful; "I will never get to tell her I'm sorry…I was so spiteful to her…"_

_Peter could see Edmund was getting drawn back to his misery and Peter gave his brother's shoulder a small squeeze. Edmund gave a small start, drawing his attention away from the past. Peter locked his eyes with Edmund's._

_  
"Ed, don't. Stop. You're torturing yourself. You made a mistake- leave it at that," said Peter, a hint of warning in his voice. Fierce pride glowed in Edmund's eyes, and he opened his mouth to rebuke, but Peter cut him off; "Ed…_Eddy_…I said stop. Please."_

_Alarm etched across Edmund's face, but it was replaced with contentment and remembrance. "You…You haven't called me that in years," he said softly. "Not since we were-"_

"_Friends." Edmund looked slightly taken aback, and Peter shot him a firm look. "Don't even try to act surprised. Ever since you started at that boarding school, we've always had a row over something…And ever since Dad left, we've been utterly terrible to each other." Seeing the look of guilt pass over his brother, Peter continued, "It's not just your fault, Ed! I shouldn't have been so bossy…It's my turn to be sorry."_

_The boys fell silent after that, sitting side by side, Edmund leaning into Peter's soft embrace. There seemed to be nothing more to say for the time being…They were at calm, and both were afraid to break the quiet. Peter occasionally glanced down at his brother, reassuring that Edmund's mind hadn't traced back to unwanted sorrows…Reassuring that his brother was there._

_A time later, Peter finally broke the silence. "Ed." The boy looked up, blinking his eyes blearily. Peter gave a small smile at the tired, almost innocent face. Gently, he brushed a dark lock of hair from the freckled face, a look of pure sincerity crossing his features. "I love you, Eddy," he whispered. "And I miss you."_

_Edmund returned the smile sleepily. "I love you, too…And I'll be waiting for you.' With that, Edmund closed his dark eyes, falling fast asleep in his brother's lap…And soon afterwards, slumber took Peter as well.

* * *

_**A/N:** Okay, so how was that? A bit weird, falling asleep in your sleep, but oh well. I wanted it to end on a slightly melancholy note, slightly content...Again, please review, but if you have flames, please keep them low...+looks hopeful+


	3. Blood and Sorrow

**A/N:** Ohmigosh, I am so sorry it took so long to get this up! Life's been real hectic lately, and it's only going to get worse, I'm afraid. No worries, though- My computer, at long last, is fixed, and I'll have more time to think and write with the summer approaching. However, I have been going through MAJOR writer's block...Specially with all the scary happenings at school. +shudders+ Well, I hope I did better on this Chapter than the last one...I'm anxious to write the Battle!

* * *

**Chapter Three:  
Blood and Sorrow**

"Peter?"

The boy blearily fluttered his eyes open, awakened by the uncertain voice that floated under the flap of his tent. "Lu, is that you?" he called groggily, glancing at the shadows falling into view.

"Susan's with me, too. Aslan told us to come see you…" Peter's cerulean flashed open in horror and remembrance. As if a deadweight had crashed against him, he realized he was still holding the body of his little brother close. The raven hair had tumbled against his own sanded blonde. He could hear someone shuffle nervously outside; whether it was Susan or Lucy, he couldn't tell.

Susan volunteered to finish Lucy's trailed off sentence. "Peter, Aslan told us to come see you…" Obviously, she hadn't the courage to finish, either, and paused. A shuddering sigh was heard. "Peter, is everything alright?" She seemed terribly frightened now.

He bit his lip and remained silent, swinging his feet lightly from the cot, cradling Edmund's body all the more closer. Gently running a hand through his brother's hair, he asked rather brokenly, "Why? What happened?"

Now Lucy stepped up. "Aslan was crying, Peter," she whispered quickly, as though afraid she might stop again. Soft tears began to fall from the blue eyes.

"Something terrible must have happened, and he told us to see you…" Lucy's soft footfalls came closer to the flap of the tent… then hesitated. Susan, however, did not; she crossed the small amount of grassy land and placed a hand on the closed entrance.

"Peter, are you there?" she asked, her voice slightly shrill with apprehension. "We're coming in; now tell us, what happen-" Her voice broke off as she pulled the cloth away, drinking in the sight with eyes wide with horror. Lucy scrambled up behind her, anxious to see what had stopped her sister, but just as quickly, she froze as well. Peter gazed up at them with watered eyes.

A lump formed in his throat at the sight of their faces; first shock, then horror…Then numbness. The disbelief was so distinguishable; he returned his eyes to Edmund's calm face. "P-Peter?" Lucy cautiously moved forward, staring at her unmoving brother. As if a flame had alit within her, she jammed her hand to her belt, fumbling over the clasp that held her cordial. Finally grasping the diamond- hard bottle, she began to open it, but Peter's hand laid against hers, bringing her actions to a halt.

Lucy stared at her brother, almost angrily; it hurt him. "It's…it's too late, Lu," he whispered, barely overcoming the knot in his throat; "He's…he's gone."

There was a brief pause of terrible silence…

Lucy burst into wracking sobs, her wails echoing through the tent. Peter winced; that hurt him, too. Susan seemed quite lost for words as she hesitantly approached her brother, staring horrified at Edmund. "Peter…I…but…Ed…_How?_" was all she could say, her tears falling thick and fast. Her eyes landed on a dark, sodden mark on Edmund's side, then on the bloody tear in the clothing. Unable to take the sight of it, she bore her eyes into Peter, who was softly sobbing.

"I heard the Witch's army last night, and I left; I figured if anything was about to happen, like an attack, I should see about it." He ignored her disbelieving stare and continued in a cracked voice; "I was wrong about an attack. They led me to the Stone Table…And they were surrounding it, causing a great fuss over something…" He paused, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his brother's face; "They had Edmund on the Table. I saw the Knife, and I knew something was going to happen…"

Lucy's sobs grew softer now, quite exhausted. She gazed at Peter with such a melancholy expression that he faltered in his words. Gathering himself again, he went on softly, "I saw his fear…his _terror_…his regret. He saw me, I know he did, just before…before…Anyway, I could see him…He said he was sorry;" He paused, recalling his vivid dream, "And I forgave him…But it was too late."

A small rage flamed in his eyes quite suddenly, and a startled expression flashed on the sisters' faces. "I could have done something…He was suffering…I was so misunderstanding to him in London, and here!" Susan bit her lip.

"Peter, no…please, don't, it's not your fault," she begged, but he did not heed her.

"If I had just been halfway decent to him, that dagger never would have fallen! He would be here! It _is_ my fault!" he cried, quite stricken. His anger ebbed away, replaced with what felt like never ending misery. "And now he's dead…My little brother is gone."

---------------

The whole camp seemed sobered by the news of the young boy's passing. Some seemed very stricken, and a new subject was often discussed in low undertones- "What about the prophecy!" Peter ignored this question quite bluntly; his focus was at all times either on plans for battle, or tracing back to Edmund, as were Susan and Lucy's. Aslan's mood seemed considerably quieter, and he became slightly scarcer to see as he began to rally more troops.

Peter refused to let anyone remove his brother's body from his tent with a firm note. A few dwarves scoffed at this behind his back, finding it to be rather silly with false hope; though they did have the mind to know not to talk about it around him, heavens _no._ His mood turned from one to the next; his anger bubbled viciously beneath the hurt and sorrow, always ready to lunge at any poor, unsuspecting soul. More than once he had raised his voice at a satyr or a Talking Beast for almost no apparent reason, but just as quickly, he was apologizing repeatedly. This set a rather unsettling fog swirling around the Narnians- Many were beginning to fear for Peter's sanity.

Peter knew he was not mad; true, his hopes may be false. True, he may seem a bit haughty, but had the others seen his brother, alive and well, in a dream? Had they talked to him, embraced him? Nay.

One evening, he began towards his tent, quite tired and ready to turn in. He was nearly there, when he passed a dwarf's tent. He paid no mind to them and their gruff voices, until a piece of conversation grated against him; "…Humph, and the boy's supposed to be our new High King? I wonder still if Aslan even has a clue what he's been doing; wooing and worrying over the death of his brother. Pah! Me? I'm quite satisfied the prat died."

Peter's footfalls stopped abruptly, his hands beginning to clench in anger. The blunt, gravely voice continued without fault; "I mean, he couldn't have been any good anyway! He betrayed his own family and us for that Witch. I'm even debating if we're on the right side at this point!" Peter's eyes flashed with irritation and fury, but before he opened the tent, a loud thunk of a glass hitting a table echoed out to him.

"That's quite enough, Narv!" another thundered, and cries of agreement followed it. "Edmund was a Pevensie royal, and would have become King himself! And to insult _Aslan_! Such a sin has never been committed, never in _his camp_! And you keep your mouth shut; Sire Peter is never to be harped against either. His brother _has died._ It is a terrible loss; not only for him, but for Narnia! As many have been asking, how now will the thrones be filled!"

Peter smiled half heartedly, but his rage bubbled up again as Narv retaliated. "Again, I say pah! He has died of treachery! Even Aslan knows _that_. He told us, remember? The Deep Magic, _his_ law. All Traitors belong to her, or else Narnia will perish in water and fire." The tent fell silent. Smugly, the dwarf continued, "He was to die, anyway. He plagued himself, so I see no need to _mourn _him-"

The dwarf was cut off as Peter thrust the entrance open, his sword drawn. The dwarves fell silent; excepting the one called Narv. The arrogant creature leered at him, slamming his wooden mug down on the table with a crash. "Oh, my my my. Does the young prince find it unacceptable to discuss matters?" he sneered, raising to his feet; even standing, he was a good three feet below Peter.

"Matters?" the boy hissed between clenched teeth. "You insulted Aslan, disgraced me, and _disgraced my brother_. I find that to be more than just matters."

The dwarf grinned smugly at Peter, watching Rhindon's sharp, silver blade with malicious glint in his eye. "Humph, I suppose so, _little king_. But do you forget- Your brother would have seen you to die."

Peter slashed his sword violently through the air. "That's a _lie!_" he yelled, his eyes wild. "You weren't there! You didn't see him die!"

Narv smirked, fiddling with the smooth handle of his battle axe; the other dwarves backed away from him, placing their hands on their own weapons if Peter was attacked. Narv paid them no mind, but scoffed, "Nay, you are right- Though I might have paid money to."

The boy snapped. With a cry, he lunged at Narv, aiming an accurate blow at the dwarf's neck…_Clash_. The sharp ring of metal against metal sounded through the tent as Narv raised his axe, slamming the blunt head against the sword. Caught off guard, Peter stumbled backwards, his mind swirling in shock. "_By Jove, he's _strong!" Peter thought with grimace; though Narv was short, his whole body seemed to be as solid as a small boulder.

Dark laughter rang from the dwarf as he leered at Peter. "Oh, a temper, have we? And to attack in your own camp…"

Narv jumped at him, his axe already descending. With a frantic movement, Peter raised his sword, only just down casting to blow. The mere action sent him to the ground, the dwarf standing over him. Narv was no longer sneering; his face was twisted into a look of pure lividness, his beady eyes shining with hate.

"Edmund is dead! Why waste away on false hope? You are going mad," the dwarf growled, gripping his axe with two hands. "The Witch was right to kill him; we could not have a _traitor _as King."

Peter attempted to lunge at the dwarf again, but the creature sent a stunning blow across his head. Dazed, he fell back against the ground, his grip on the hilt of his sword slackening. A cry rose through the tent as a different dwarf stepped forward; his voice was that of the one that had silenced Narv the first time.

"NARV! How _dare you attack the High King!_" he roared, standing in front of the hazy eyed boy sprawled on the ground. He held his own axe in tight fists, ready for an attack. Quite suddenly, he eyed the axe Narv held, and cried, "You are no follower of Aslan! I see the Witch's mark borne upon your weapon!"

There was a deafening roar, though it was not the dwarves' chorus of deep hollers; a blur of gold sprang at the traitorous dwarf, knocking Narv to the ground pinned beneath it. Peter shook his head, clearing the fog from his head, though pain continuously panged against it. Setting his teeth, he managed to prop himself up on one elbow to see Aslan stepping away from the dwarf's motionless corpse.

He fixed his eyes on the golden ambers, and then glanced at Narv's body with disgust. To be truthful, he felt no pity for the dwarf. Narv had been a spy of the Witch's. He hadn't been at the Stone Table…_"Though I might have paid money to."_

"Peter."

Peter snapped out of his murderous thoughts, breaking his gaze away from the slain creature to fix his eyes on Aslan. The Lion flicked his golden tail, a look of deep concern and quietness bearing his features.

"Aslan, I'm sorry. I should have fetched you before I barged in like that," said Peter quietly, momentarily unsettled.

Aslan remained silent, waiting for the boy to continue.

"But he disgraced me and Edmund…And insulted _you_!" Peter pressed shrilly.

"Release the ice in your heart, dear heart; he has been dealt with. Mistakes are not to be scolded, but to be taught by." Peter nodded numbly. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll…I'll be fine with some rest," he assured, despite the throbbing pain in his head.

The Lion shook his mane slightly. "I think it would be best if you might go to your tent, Son of Adam; your sisters are awaiting you."

-----------

Peter laid a hand on the closed entrance to his tent, then faltered as a loud, audible sniff was heard from within. He closed his eyes in silent protest; his sisters had been suffering just as much as he had been. Gently, he called, "Susan? Lu?"

There was a shuddering breath, then another sniff, before a small voice announced, "It's…just me, P-Peter." A broken noise sounding like a muffled sob caused Peter to wince as he cautiously entered his tent.

Lucy sat on his bed, her eyes red from obvious crying, a steady stream of tears flowing down her face. She sniffled again, gazing mournfully at her brother, who returned it. Peter felt shattered; he never knew it was possible for one so young to feel so much anguish and grief.

Finally, she broke away and returned to what she had obviously been doing before Peter had shown up- Softly, she stroked Edmund's dark hair, holding his head in her lap. Peter sighed, quietly making his way to the cot and sitting beside his little sister. "You shouldn't be in here, Lu."

"Why not, Peter?" she snapped, though she kept her eyes on the freckled face of her motionless brother.

Peter clenched his teeth in bitter resentment and grief. For his sister's sake, he sought a reason, any reason to attempt and end her misery, but found none. With a sigh, he placed an arm around her shoulders; to his great relief, she leaned into the haven.

"I miss him, Peter." The words caught him off guard, but before he could reply, she continued; "He might have been a bit spiteful, but I really believe it wasn't his fault."

Peter grimaced, but Lucy pressed on, her voice growing shrill; "It was after he was sent away to that horrid school, though, wasn't it? When he started going wrong…He was always picked on until he joined in." She sniffed again, her tears starting anew. "I miss the _old_ Edmund, Peter. Somehow, I think if he had been saved, he would have changed."

Peter had now shifted his gaze from his sister to the body of his brother, absorbing Lucy's words. She _was_ right- It was after that school….

With a pained expression, Peter knew it was truly, truly when their father had left for war. The day when Edmund finally collapsed, involuntarily placing the mile stretch between him and the rest of his family…The day Peter felt as though his brother had been forever lost.

Peter remembered the memory, no matter how many times it had tortured him. How Joseph had turned to each child in turn, giving them his final goodbyes. How he had found Edmund sobbing, alone, curled up on his bed. How Peter had tried to console his brother, and how he had failed miserably for many an hour, until Edmund's cries receded as the boy was embraced by his loving brother.

"Shh…He'll be back, Ed," he had whispered. "He'll be back."

And how Edmund's heart had turned cold once more the next day…And the walls between them were secured.

He remembered how he used to scold Edmund for his beastly behavior, not truly understanding his younger brother. How sometimes Peter would catch him crying silently at night. How Peter sometimes broke down and pleaded and prayed that Joseph would return safely and they would be a family once again.

And then, Peter froze.

"_Oh my gosh... he'll never see Dad again."

* * *

_**A/N:** Welllllll...? I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I had to put in a little skirmish! I'm DYING to write the Battle scene. And is it just me, or are my Chapters getting shorter...+gasps+ I must put an end to that! Anyway, pleasereview!


	4. The Wonders of Aslan

**Title:** Were it Not for Love  
**  
Rating: **PG

**Author: **MooMoogle

**Diclaimer:** I don't own 'em, but I love 'em to death!  
**  
A/N:** Oh my goodness gracious, I am SO sorry for the immense wait! I'm only afraid to say it might take even longer for the next chapter. We're moving this summer to a house with NO cable or high speed internet. Yah. Stinks. Hopefully I can borrow my friend's computer to put it up. Anyway, here you all go...It's a bit longer and goes really fast, but OH WELL. XD I wanted it to.

* * *

**Chapter Four  
The Wonders of Aslan**

The fair headed boy's steps were sure and steadfast as he emerged from his tent, pulling back the tapestries to let sunlight tumble into the makeshift shelter. He squinted his eyes at first, the light momentarily blinding, him, before he set on again.

Aslan had sent for him- it really wasn't much of a shock to Peter when he had heard the message. The battle was only tomorrow, and he was sure the Lion wanted to discuss a few matters with him. Perhaps the archers should be rearranged…Maybe put the fauns equally on each flank…Whatever the reason, he tried not too worry or seem uneasy; truly, he was quite fearful of the next morning. Would he simply walk away? Oh, no, not Peter. He would face the challenge set before him, even if it would be a brutal attack.

It was still relatively early in the morning; the grounds were nearly empty excluding the few guard centaurs and fauns. He deliberately ignored them, though, leaving them to their duties. They, in turn, left their King alone. They knew of Aslan's calling to him, and their respect for both beings was never ending.

Past the camp boundaries and up the hilly green he traveled. The occasional whistle of a bird rang clear; otherwise it was silent. Soon, the boy began to worry. _"I must have gone the wrong way,"_ he finally concluded after many a minute. He stopped, and was about to turn heel, when he heard his name.

"Peter." He turned to finally be met with the sight of the great lion. Aslan padded softly forward, Peter looking side ways at the Beast.

"You called for me, Aslan?"

"Indeed." Aslan joined by Peter's side, gazing up at him. "Shall you fancy a walk?" Peter, a bit startled by the offer, only managed to nod before the pair set off at a slow pace. The air was silent, but it was not stiff, Peter noticed with slight regard, and it remained that way for a long time.

Finally, Peter split the silence. "Aslan, I can't stop thinking about him." He stopped, his voice shaking. "Was it my fault?"

The Lion as well came to a halt, casting a look of sympathy up at the boy. "Do you believe it is your fault?"

Peter gulped. "I…don't know, Aslan. Sometimes…sometimes I do. But sometimes I feel…it could have been different."

"A cruel twist of fate has occurred. But we cannot know what _could_ of happened, Peter."

"I understand, Aslan."

Aslan raised an eyebrow. "Do you, dear one?"

"I…think so…" Peter's voice trailed away with uncertainty.

"Peter, it is not wrong to miss him. It is not wrong to grieve. But what is wrong is to chase after the past. You have not done so, nor do I wish you to. That is why I have called you." Aslan began to start forward again, Peter next to him, watching the Lion. "There have been some, more than few, who do go mad with what may have happened. They begin to follow after it, and it slowly begins to twist their mind and actions until they either kill themselves, or the ones around them."

Peter stumbled, quickly picking himself up again. "I…I don't want that."

"Of course not. And you won't have that." Aslan stopped, turning to face the trembling boy. His voice softened. "I too wish to protect my family. O Peter, I mourn with you. But remember, not all is lost."

Peter drew a shuddering breath, turning his cerulean eyes to the heavens. "I know, Aslan…I know."

The boy tangled his fingers in the golden mane, burying his face within it. And softly, the two began to weep for all that had happened, and for the lie that had hidden in Peter's voice.

* * *

"_Peter, come back…Please come back."_

_Edmund watched with despaired eyes as his brother began to fade from the forest, leaving the boy alone in the wood. His pleas did nothing but simply echo through the trees with an odd ring he knew no one would hear. _

_He slumped against a tree, his spirit filled with grief. He was alone…From all he knew, he would never meet his siblings again. _

_And that knowledge hurt._

_He softly crossed to the pool of light which his brother had been near, which was actually not light at all, but water reflecting a soft glow…and releasing it's own light as well. There were pools dotted all through the wood, and each one had tortured him. They were worlds…entrances to worlds for anyone who came to the Wood to access…Except for him. He had tried so many times, and each time he broke the surface, the water would simply ripple and the image would fade, and his fingertips would brush the mud at the bottom._

_Now he stared down into the water…Into Narnia. He saw the Camp, the soldiers…Even, with a wave of anguish, his siblings, preparing for the battle to come. Susan with her bow and arrow, releasing shot after shot upon a target; Lucy, practicing with dagger, though he knew she would never use it in battle._

_But what made his heart ache the most was when he saw Peter with his sword, riding his noble unicorn, exchanging blows with Orious. He forced himself to watch, to never look away, making himself suffer._

_But the truth always managed to catch up with him. He could have been there, happy, _alive_, with his siblings in Aslan's Camp…He could have refused the Witch…He could have actually warned them…He could have…He could have…_

_A yell tore from his lips; his fists, balled, slammed into the water, releasing a spray that drenched him. His blows once more met the dirt bottom of the pool, and the image rippled away._

_A wail of grief escaped him as Edmund crumpled on the ground, tears streaming down his already wet face. He was dead, and that was all there was to it. He would never go back, and now he was damned to continue on with his sins. _

_He was dead…He was dead…_

_Something soft brushed his cheek, bringing him back. With a hiccup, he let his eyes flutter open. A lion stood before him, his noble face lowered to the boy. Edmund did not give a start, but simply locked his own despairing eyes with the ambers. He released a spluttering sigh as he fought to contain his sobs._

"_A-Aslan?" he managed to whisper. The Lion gave a small nod. _

_A look of utmost abandon crossed over the boy's features, his tears starting anew. This was the Lion. The Lion who ruled all. The Lion he had so quickly brushed away._

"_I…I'm so…sorry." His voice, already weak, was strangled. _

_Aslan's eyes welled with tears. "Do you understand your mistakes, Edmund?" The boy nodded earnestly. _

"_I do, Aslan," he replied quickly. "Oh how I do."_

_Aslan studied him for a moment. "Do you know why you are here, and not there?" He regarded the pool, which had smoothed and now displayed a faun at work. _

_Edmund gazed at the picture. "S-she told me…Oh, Aslan, I was a traitor. She told me she must have the traitor's blood." He looked back up at the Lion. "Oh, Aslan, was she telling the truth?"_

_ "It is a very vague explanation of the Deep Magic…But yes. The Emperor wrote, long ago, the binding words that told, should one commit treachery, their blood is due to her. If the life is not given, then Narnia shall perish in both fire and water." _

_A ragged, shuddering breath escaped the boy. "Then I was doomed to die from the start." _

_"Dear heart, do not give up upon faith. Your blood has been shed, true, and I cannot work against the Emperor's magic. But there is always a way…" Aslan fell silent, waiting patiently, giving Edmund a moment to think. _

_Edmund, though he tried to come up with a solution, failed miserably and sagged. "There is no way out, Aslan." He buried his face in his knees. "I've been condemned." _

_"Son of Adam, do you not realize? Do not give yourself up. Notice, you are not where the condemned go." Edmund looked up. "I have managed to instead turn your soul here, amidst the Wood between the Worlds. Only you and I can view each one. You have not truly proven yourself, therefore I could not bring you to my country beyond the sea; but the condemned are cursed to go to their own place where ones such as the Witch dwell." _

_Edmund shivered. "I don't want to go there." _

_The Lion softened. "Nor do you. Edmund, you have a chance. You have the chance to prove yourself to Narnia, to your siblings, to your subjects, that you have changed. You can return to them and fight against the true wicked, creatures, and regain yourself." _

_The raven haired boy's bow shaped lips parted in a look of disbelief, a flicker of hope finally alighting in his dark eyes. "Oh, Aslan, can I?" _

_A soft smile crossed over Aslan. "Yes. But, heed me; as I've said, I cannot work against the Magic…You must return from the World once the war has ended." _

_Edmund lowered his gaze. "I understand." _

_"But, also, heed me; Your blood can be shed and your life lost." _

_ "Oh, Aslan; if I die, will I return here?" _

_Aslan purred. "Dear heart, should you die in the hour of War, and should you prove yourself, you will die with honor and forgiveness." _

_Tears of joy fell from Edmund's eyes as he gazed at the golden lion before him. _There was hope._ "But now, climb on my back. You have a long ways to go, and very little time to get there. The battle is only in a few hours." The boy, with the help of Aslan, managed to stand, and after a moment's hesitation, clambered upon the soft, fur back of the Lion. He tangled his fingers in the soft, golden mane, and the two set off through the Wood. _

_And for the first time in a long time, Edmund smiled as they ran. _

* * *

It was time. 

Peter sat upon his faithful mount, garbed in dwarf wrought armour, Rhindon clenched in one fist, his shield in the other. Beside and behind him, were the thousands of soldiers, waiting tensely. The Witch was not here yet…But Peter knew it would not be long.

Though he did not show it, Peter was a nervous wreck. He was no hero…And without Aslan, he was even farther from it. The Lion had disappeared late last night without a single word. Orieus had said that Aslan had matters to attend to…But was it really greater than the Battle?

A sharp cry rang from the sky, and Peter looked up to see the gryphon, Kazar, circling above. The Beast made a great loop, passing the archers standing silently up on the cliff. Peter bit his lip when his gaze met Susan, who had insisted she be in charge of the archers. He had, of course, rebuked the idea, but Susan had haughtily informed him that Father Christmas had given her a bow and quiver for a reason.

Kazar descended from the sky, landing roughly on a jut beside Peter's unicorn. "They come, your Highness, with numbers and weapons far greater than our own!"

Orieus shifted slightly. "Numbers do not win a battle."

A deep pit settled in Peter's stomach as faint screeches sounded. "No…But I bet they help," he muttered.

And in great numbers and weapons they came. Far as the eye could see, the Witch's army stood impatiently, already releasing victorious cries.

And lone, above her army, was the Witch herself. She stood motionless in a chariot, clutching the rein to the polar bears pulling it, her wand in the other. The jagged ice caught the sun's glow with a dark humor…Glinting with evil…

_The dagger raised high… _

And all at once, Peter's fear was replaced with rage. _This was the one who had killed his little brother. This was the one who would pay._

With a bray, her army poured forth from around her, racing forward towards the Narnians. Peter watched, fuming, though he waited. A cry echoed from the cliff; Susan had given the first order. The gryphons came, shrieking, clutching small boulders as they advanced upon their enemy. From high above, the beasts let them drop, smothering the unlucky few of the Witch's army.

Now…Now it was his time. With flaming eyes, he surveyed the advancing beasts… _They killed him…They will all perish… _

He raised his sword to the enemy, and the trumpets and war cries sounded, and weapons were drawn. _They killed my little brother…_

A scowl formed over his face. Gathering up his voice, he finally cried:

_"For Narnia…And for Aslan!" _

His unicorn gave a snort and reared, flailing his sharp hooves to the heavens…Then with a lunge, leapt forward, racing towards the opposite army.

* * *

_Aslan did not slow one step the whole journey, and only did as the Wood grew thin. Edmund had sat, silent but thrilled, upon the Lion, his mind racing. _He was going back_… _

_"I am afraid I must leave you here; I cannot take you any further." Edmund did not hesitate; he alit from Aslan's back, landing lightly on the soft ground. A strain of worry ran through the boy's eyes- he feared that he could not go alone. _

_But the Lion was not one to doubt. Aslan turned his face skyward and opened his maw wide. The boy flinched, expecting an ear shattering roar, but he was mistaken. The Lion released one single, beautiful note that rang clear. It was most obvious it was a call for something. _

_And sure enough, out of the thin air, a dark, noble black horse appeared; though it was not a normal horse at all. Dark feathered wings protruded from below the steed's withers, folded neatly at his sides. The flying beast shook it's head in surprise, though once it saw Aslan, it calmed instantly, and fell immediately into a horse-bow. _

_"Askari at your service, Sire." _

_"Askari, I am in need of your abilities…That is, if you wish to carry this Son of Adam into battle against the Witch." _

_The beast's eyes flamed with anger, and he gave a snort. "O Aslan, consider it done! I should like to fight Her, especially after she turned me to Stone…" After a moment, the horse regained his composure, and turned to look upon Edmund, who gazed back in wonder. "We should like to leave now, Sire, if we wish to get there soon." _

_Edmund nodded, and with a moment's struggle, mounted the winged steed. A ring of franticness flit through him as his hand rested against his hip, noticing he was weaponless. "Aslan, I don't have a sword, or armor!" _

_"Do not fear, dear heart; you will arrive ready. But now, fly! I shall join you soon…But I have business to attend to." With that the Lion released a roar, and horse and rider plunged into darkness. _

_

* * *

_

With a fierce yell, Peter brought his sword down mercilessly on a minotaur, ending the creatures life. _Let them come; they will all perish…_

Blow after blow he released, never holding back. He would never hold back. _They killed him…THEY KILLED MY BROTHER!_

A wolf lunged from the fray, maw agape, at Peter. The boy snarled, raising his shield to deflect the attack, then plunged his sword into the stunned beast. He was unsatisfied- _Where is she…I want her. _

Though he could not search properly- attack after attack was aimed at him, and again and again he would unleash his anger.

A burning light caught his eye, and he raised his gaze. The Phoenix flew gracefully above the clashing armies, diving towards the ground between them. Flames leapt from the earth before Peter, shielding the enemy from view. Roars of triumph bellowed from the Narnians as the Witch's army was deterred-

The flames fell as a rush of cold magic flattened them.

_There was the Witch._

Peter seethed inside, longing to rush upon her, and _smite her down_…But he knew the tactic would simply end his life. He grit his teeth, then finally cried, "Fall back! Back to the rocks!" His unicorn turned sharply, beginning to retreat through the valley…

A gryphon hovered near him. "Sire, someone approaches the Battle lines!" he shrieked before propelling himself back into the air, following through with Peter's order to go to the rocks.

A look of confusion passed over the youth's face- 'someone approaches the Battle lines'? _Oh no, not Lucy, please not Lucy…I told her to stay at camp… _

But it t'was not his youngest sister.

A great whinny echoed clear 'cross the plains, though it struck Peter as an odd sound. The very call was…_pure_, in a way. But his puzzlement faded as the figure emerged from the edge of the valley.

A great, black pegasus stood, pawing the ground with grim delight, his great wings spread abroad. The Beast, though midnight hue, seemed to _glow_ almost, giving off his own light.

But Peter could care less about the horse- all he saw, was its rider.

Because there, glowing even brighter than his mount, with both a sneer and a scowl across his face, was Edmund.

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**A/N: **Cliffie! XD Sorry, I had to do that. Anyway, please review! I love reviews! Or else I shall make you wait a reeeaaallly long time! Bwhahaha.  



	5. Twist of Fate

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em but I lurv 'em!

**A/N: **Okay, I don't want y'all to wait forever, so I typed _fast_, so it goes _fast_. Just a heads up. Anyway. I NEED THOSE REVIEWS+puppy dog eyes+ Please? I know I'm very very ebil, but...+blinks+ Here you go! Warning: I am still evil.

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Chapter Five: Twist of Fate  
**

_Edmund was alive._

Peter stared, wide eyed, at the very sight set before him. By some miracle, Ed was _alive_. He could care less how…His brother was _alive._

Edmund sat at first quietly, surveying the scene below him. The Narnians were fleeing to the rocks, filling the valley below. Some glanced upward and saw the sight, their mouths opening in disbelief, but could not stop, being pushed along by the others who did not take notice. The boy, for the moment, could care less if anyone saw him or not…Except for three.

But right now, one.

Aslan had been a lion of his word- he had arrived fully dressed for war. He was garbed in finely wrought armor, his tunic a dancing gold and crimson, bearing Aslan's crest. That, of course, was a very vague description…But there are very few words for Aslan's own armor.

Once the major stream of Aslan's army had retreated back, he laid a hand on the thick, muscular neck. "Askari…?"

The stallion grinned. "When you are ready."

Edmund took in a deep breath. He had known this moment would come…But now his doubts were nagging at him. He growled. _'No; Aslan told me I would be fine.'_

A streak of white caught his attention, and he glanced down, alarmed slightly-

And then all at once his view faded.

All except those china blue eyes.

---

Lucy sat quietly in her tent, fumbling with her cordial bottle. The guards outside her tent had been little comfort to her- she felt she needed to be with Susan and Peter, at the Battle. _'I could help! I've got a dagger,'_ she thought haughtily, but she hadn't protested to Peter. He had looked tired enough, and since she was a modest girl, she had quietly agreed.

But now, the two fauns standing next to the flap of her tent were having a puzzlement of their own. Rerian, one of the fauns, shifted suddenly, his cloven hooves skittering silently on the grassy turf. His partner gave him an alarmed look, to which Rerian whispered in explanation, "I thought I just saw something- just over that hill near that old oak closest to the far tent."

Lucy, of course, overheard this, to which she stopped muddling with her healing drought to listen. But when she heard the soft scratch of swords being drawn, she stifled a gasp. Cautiously, she eyed the closed entrance to her tent before gently setting the bottle noiselessly on the ground, her now empty hand closing around the hilt of her dagger.

Rerian peered anxiously at the spot where the movement had been exposed, his grip on his weapon tightening. But the unsettled fauns had nothing to worry over.

"_Aslan!"_ Rerian cried as the lion emerged from beyond the hill near that old oak closest to the far tent. Lucy's fears disappeared all at once, and with a cry of relief, she leapt from her cot and ran from the tent, colliding with Aslan's thick, warm mane.

"Aslan!" she cried happily, joyous that the lion was alright- and back.

The Lion shook his mane and laughed quietly. Lucy drew back, looking at him with wide, serious eyes. "You simply must hurry to the Battle, Aslan!"

Aslan gave her a soft look. "Now is not my time."

Lucy displayed a look of turmoil. "They _need_ you, Aslan!"

"I have placed someone in my position for the time being," he replied curtly. "But now, we must hurry! Peter will need all the troops he can get. Please, Daughter of Eve, would you accompany me?"

"You know I will, Aslan," she assured him, but with a questioning look, she added quizzically, "But who is take-"

"No time! Go, gather your cordial and dagger, and I shall explain along the way." Lucy, though unsatisfied, turned and rushed back to her tent. Carefully, though quickly, she clasped her cordial and dagger back upon her belt. She returned to the lion just in time to hear him address the fauns- "You have been dismissed to your original duties."

The fauns nodded before turning heel back towards the battle fields, their hooves carrying them swiftly out of sight.

Aslan turned to Lucy. "Now, if you would, you must ride upon me. We have a long journey and little time to get there."

Once the girl was atop the Lion's regal back and they had set off at a fast 'gallop', she pressed Aslan. "Aslan, please- who is taking your place at the battle?"

Aslan smiled, and after a moment, told her.

---

The dark browns locked with the hauntingly blue.

And all in a rush, the battle rippled into view. Peter, his gaze still upon his brother, had kicked his unicorn forward in a fierce gallop- he had begun to fall behind. Edmund set his teeth, then finally murmured, "Then let us run forth."

Askari grinned, releasing a sharp, deep war cry, kicking his front feet from the earth into a steep rear.

---

The Witch sharply looked up at the sound- she had not heard such in her lifetime. But it did not take long for the icy stare to fall upon the figure up on the valley, and her mouth parted in a silent gasp once she realized whom it was. _The Traitor was alive_.

She gritted her teeth, her grip on her wand tightening dangerously, but otherwise remained silent. Her lips slowly curved into a malicious smirk- she had killed him once…She would kill him again.

---

Askari leapt from the edge, spreading his wings slightly to dive down to the path of the valley. The moment his hooves touched the earth, the stallion kicked into a gallop, running alongside a milky white unicorn.

Riders turned towards each other, their eyes locked. Peter's face was one of utter alarm and joy, though he could not speak through the knot in his throat. Edmund seemed to understand, and offered a small smile.

But it turned into one of shock and horror. "_Peter, look out!" _he yelled; but he had been too late. Moments after Askari had alit from the top of the valley, Ginnarbrik had taken the steed's place, his bowstring taunt, releasing an arrow at Peter's unicorn. The horse stumbled as he was wounded, Peter sure to follow.

Edmund grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him onto the ebon pegasus just as the unicorn collapsed. Askari skidded to a halt, determined to make sure the fallen steed was alright. The two whinnied at each other for a moment, then the white horse scrambled to his feet and fled. Askari turned heel at this, taking of once more at gallop, his wings pressed tightly to his sides.

"He said he would be fine, but he is in no condition to fight," the horse puffed as he ran; a bit more apologetically, he added, "But I'm afraid you've lost your own steed this battle, your Highness."

Peter, clutching his brother's sides, was drawn back to reality. "Oh…it's alright," he stammered, blinking back his tears. Edmund turned, smiling sheepishly at him; even so, his eyes were shining with tears.

A small smile curved on Peter's face, a spluttering laugh escaping his lips, tears finally tumbling from his sparkling blue eyes. Edmund gave a playful groan. "Stop, or else you'll make me start."

Peter sniffed, wrapping his arms around his brother, burying his face in Edmund's shoulder. "I...I thought..._how_?" was all he could manage, his voice muffled.

"I'll explain after the battle," Edmund promised, dashing at his eyes. "But what I can say, is that I was sent back for a reason, Peter." Peter released his embrace on his brother, sensing the quiet fire in his voice. Edmund glanced back at the pursuing army, his face contorted. "This is why I was sent back."

Askari squealed suddenly, and both boys braced themselves for the horse's sharp rear and bolt. A boggle had managed to catch up, it's club raised, only missing the pegasus' hindquarters. The younger managed to grab a tuftful of mane, turning Askari so he faced his opponent, who had finally realized he had missed his target, and was preparing to release another blow. The creature never made his attack- With a cry, Edmund raised his sword, sending it down upon his foe, ending its life with a squeal.

Edmund did not falter, only urging Askari on. Peter's clench on his own sword tightened- now was not the time for a celebration. Had that beast brought down the horse, they would have been sure to follow...He shuddered. No, now was not the time to reflect the 'what if's'...

Askari, though he was a fast, sure footed steed, he was also tiring. Edmund sighed raggedly, but nonetheless, he brought the ebon stallion up. He knew an exhausted steed was not one suitable to ride, both for he and his brother and for the horse himself. Askari eyed him warily, but skidded to a stop with a snort, turning on his heels to face the Army already upon the Narnians.

The brothers both drew deep breaths of anxiety, glancing at each other once more...Then, tightening their grip upon the shining hilts of their swords; they let the enemy pour forth, weapons raised.

----

Lucy rushed through the Courtyard, a strange sort of emptiness running through her...She shivered, blinking at the looming, staring statues. It scared her almost; these 'statues' were once _real, living_ souls, now forever trapped within the stony grey slabs. The Witch had been in rule for about one hundred years...Could there be some that had remained a frozen prisoner for decades? A tingle ran up her spine at the thought.

A small gasp of turmoil escaped her open lips as she turned from behind a rearing centaur, drinking in a new, devastating sight.

A small faun stood, his eyes wide terrified, staring up at an invisible enemy, hands raised in a meek attempt to shield himself from a frightful attack, his small mouth open in a silent cry. The girl felt her eyes quickly fill with tears; she knew this faun. He had, though it seemed so long ago, been her first friend in Narnia.

"Oh, Aslan, it's _too_ bad!" she cried as she stared at the lifeless, though so detailed it might have passed as a living being, form of Mr. Tumnus. The Lion did not answer, but silently padded on soft paws towards the statue, pausing feet from it, mouth agape. Lucy stared, confused, watching as a warm, invisible Lion's breath fell and swirled over the formation.

Then it was silent, save the small sniffs from the sorrow-struck girl.

But it was not silent for long. And Lucy witnessed the power of Aslan.

A small gasp, followed by a spluttering cough, came from the statue. Curious, Lucy continued to watch; warm color slowly began to replace the hostile grayness of the stone, spreading from his small, curled horns poking from his hair down to his prized, cloven hooves. With another gasp, Mr. Tumnus, who was now very much alive, stumbled forward, only to be caught by Lucy.

And no sooner, the two were dancing round and round, clasping each other's hands, laughing joyously, occasionally pausing to watch Aslan perform the same miracle as he had upon Tumnus. Soon, the quite, solemn Courtyard was buzzing with talking, laughing, braying, whinnying, pawing, snorting, bleating voices as the room filled with life.

Once every corner and every room had been stolen of their stone prisoners, the party filed round the closed gate, which Aslan had leapt over. The issue was brushed aside as a Giant's club smashed the iron bars open, and after a few moments of situation and arrangements, Lucy was once more upon Aslan's back, racing towards the battle.

A light fluttering feeling entered her stomach, causing her to laugh quietly.

She was going to see her brother_s_.

---

Though the boys fought hard and mercilessly, they found themselves slowly being pushed further and further back by the Witch's army. It seemed that, as soon as they had felled one beast, another would jump to take its place. Both were slowly beginning to tire beneath their, now what seemed very heavy, armor. But they weren't giving up yet…not yet…

Edmund swung his sword down, crushing the skull of an unfortunate goblin, releasing a heavy sigh of relief when another did not leap forward. He took the precious second to glance around at their progress-

Then stopped short.

Statues- those cursed things- were quickly beginning to cover the valley. His mouth parted slightly in a scowl- this was why they were falling behind. One by one, poor Narnians were being frozen in stone…His gaze traced further down, until it stopped, a flame leaping within him.

The Witch let her wand plunge down upon a small satyr, who released a shriek of terror as he watched it descend- and in a moment it was silent. Jadis sneered, leaving the creature before turning towards a centaur-

A sharp cry of shock escaped Edmund, mixing with the squeal of Askari as the pegasus crashed upon the ground, sending both Edmund and Peter to the ground. A minotaur loomed over Edmund, club raised, releasing a deep below as the creature let it fall. With a yelp, Edmund scrambled out of the way and to his feet, whirling round to let his sword embed itself in the beast's head.

The boy was forced to turn again, just managing to deflect a werewolf's lunge, before another creature was upon him. After minute's struggle, he killed the thing, letting his eyes search for both his brother and his steed.

Neither were in sight. The flow of the battle had swept them apart.

Cursing terribly, Edmund fought off an enemy before taking off. He had to find Peter…He was determined to protect his older brother. For once, he knew it was his stand- if this was his last day, he would live it for Peter. Peter had his life…Edmund had already lived his.

Relief washed through the boy- a shimmer of crimson and gold fell into view. Peter was alive, though he was being forced to fend off two minotaurs…And it was obvious that he was tiring. Edmund began to descend the cliff he stood on-

A small flash of light caught his eye. There was the Witch…Only just below him, having just turned a poor gryphon to stone.

A stab of horror ran through him as he realized whom she had focused upon.

Peter had his back turned; he had managed to fell one of his attackers, now in a heated battle between the remaining…He had no idea that Jadis was advancing upon him.

His terror was replaced with grave anger- Aslan's words swam through his mind- "_If you should die in the hour of war, and should you prove yourself, you will die with honor and forgiveness."_

And in that moment, he made up his mind- releasing a deep breath, he tightened the grip on his sword; then, with a deep cry, he leapt from the ledge, weapon upraised.

A look of shock flit through the Witch's eyes, but just as quickly, it was replaced with smug contentment. With a quick, fluid movement, she retracted her wand, moving it just out of the path of the boy's sword. Edmund did not waste time; he whirled round, deflecting her attack, and once more raised his sword, its edge glinting in the sunlight-

His anger was released- with all his strength, he forced his weapon upon her wand.

A sharp burst of blue light filled his vision as shards of her broken wand scattered across the ground. Stunned, Edmund paused, letting his gaze, filled with grim triumph, meet hers.

The Witch let her sneer fade, subconsciously replacing it with a livid scowl. Before the youth could react, she had clashed her sword with his, knocking it from his grip-

A soundless cry tore from open lips as he doubled over, aware of an icy, searing pain entering his stomach. His face contorted in agony, his sight flickering in shock as the Witch drew back her severed wand, its end now covered in warm, crimson blood.

_His_ blood.

Edmund had many regrets in his life; this was not one of them. He had broken her wand, cutting her flow of magic, ending her reign of freezing innocent souls…

A small, whispering breath escaped his lips as he fell, crumpling upon the blood stained battlefields…He had done all he could. It was now up to Peter to fend for himself. The sounds of the battle had left him, too blinded by pain to rely further upon his senses…Edmund slowly began to die upon the ground, suffering…

Honor and forgiveness….he had been given his honor and forgiveness.

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**A/N: **Sigh...More cliffies... Anyway, I hope you review...Please please please review- no flames please, though. 


	6. The Deep Magic

**Title: **Were it N- Okay, why do I keep typing this? You know the story (I'd hope), you know I don't own any of the characters or anything (that would be ole C. S.), and the rating...Well, FINE. -laughs-

**Rating: **Okay, just for your protection, we'll say PG. -laughs-

**A/N:** Whew! Sorry, I'm really hyper. Anyway, I am working my fingers trying to get this up before we move. This is, basically, the end, but I'm writing an epilogue for the sake of it before I move on to my next Fan Fic, and work on my current, neglected one. -laughs- Warning, again, it goes so incredible fast that it's ridiculous, but R&R anyway...?

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**Chapter Six: The Deep Magic**

A bright flash of blue caught the youth's attention, whirling around in shock to see what had caused the strange irruption. Peter's lips parted in a scream; his brother stood, doubled over the Witch's wand, which the Witch herself had _embedded in Edmund's middle._

"_Edmund!"_ he screamed, but his brother did not seem to hear him. Frozen in shock, he watched as Edmund crumpled upon the ground, motionless.

All in a whirl, memories of the Stone Table entered his mind…'_The dagger bared over his brother…the blade descending…it's edges shining as if almost with delight…His brother's ebon eyes closing…'_

'_No…not again…NOT AGAIN!' _Fierce rage boiled within Peter, his cerulean eyes flaming with hate. With a cry, he plunged his sword into his attacker, bringing the evil beast's life to an end, and just as quickly, pulled it out, whirling to face the Witch, who had dropped her severed wand, and now held Edmund's abandoned sword. She already had begun to advance upon him, both swords held taut.

With all the strength he could muster, he swung his sword at his brother's torturer, intending for her to feel all the pain _she had brought to his brother_.

His weapons path was brought to an abrupt end as Jadis deflected the blow with mock ease. All too fast, Peter found her sword coming towards him- he blocked it, turning sharp to attack again.

The two were lost in a flurry of twists and turns, aiming blow after blow at each other. The fact that one false move would prove fatal did not daunt Peter- he was lost in a storm of fury, tears of rage streaming down his face- _'She killed him…She killed him once…!'_

And only once, he tried to convince himself…But there was no time to dwell upon that. He raised his sword frantically, again aiming another blow at her-

A deafening roar split the shrieks and clangs of metal against metal, and a pause entered the two's duel…Peter turned his wide eyes to the cliffs…And a joyous sight met his eyes.

Aslan stood, sharp, long ivories bared- but he was far from alone. He had brought what seemed a whole new army to the rescue. Lucy stood beside the Lion, her eyes wide terrified but grim-

_Clash._ The Witch had managed to afflict a sharp blow on his shoulder, bringing him back from his daze. A dull throbbing began, but he did not dwell upon it; he _couldn't. _He released another blow, only to have it stopped, finding himself lost in a fierce, frantic fight:

_Turn, dodge, attack, block;_

_Turn, dodge, attack, block;_

_Turn, dodge, attack, block;_

_Turn, dodge, attack, block;_

_Turn, fall, fall, fall…_

And fall Peter did, sprawled upon his back, staring up at the livid eyes of the Witch, his sword falling from his grip slack with shock. With a sharp jab, Jadis sank one sword through his mail, catching his shoulder. Peter grimaced, subconsciously releasing a yelp of pain; but there was no time to hesitate. Frantically, he raised his shield, only to have it knocked aside.

Wide eyed in hate and terror, he watched as she raised her sword, knowing what was soon to follow-

All in a rush, a blur of gold leapt over him, knocking the Witch from the fallen boy. With a scramble, he pulled the sword pinning him down free, getting to his feet. Aslan stood, teeth bared over the Witch…And all at once, her life was ended.

'_It's over…She's gone…she's gone…Narnia is free…' _he convinced himself…And not a moment later, Aslan slowly padded from the lifeless frame of the Witch, setting amber eyes upon Peter. "It is done," the Lion stated quietly.

"_Peter!"_ Hearing his name, he turned to see a joyous Lucy and a red-faced Susan running towards him. His sisters…He was so glad to see his sisters…

"Oh, Peter!" cried Lucy, wrapping her arms around him; tiredly, he returned the embrace. "Oh, Peter, is it true? Aslan said Edmund is alive! I've told Susan!"

"I _saw_ him! Oh, I thought I was dreaming, Peter! His horse's whinny; it sounded so _beautiful!_" the older girl exclaimed in a rush; "Oh Peter, where is he?"

Their smiles faded at Peter's expression- it was, all at once, bewildered, terrified, and filled with grief. He suddenly broke away from his sisters, running…_No, Aslan, no, save him, save my little brother…_

He found Edmund lying still on the ground, his lips parting in horror- dark streams of crimson blood were visible on the grass around the felled boy.

But before he could even reach his brother, Ginnarbrik had managed to hobble near Edmund, weakly raising his axe with a final stand. With a quick, fluid motion, Susan pulled an arrow from her quiver, drawing it taut on the string of her upraised bow. "_Edmund!" _Her cry was released with an accurate arrow, and with a gasp, the dwarf fell dead.

As soon as the dwarf was felled, Peter continued forward, diving on his knees beside his brother, barely relieved through his shaken terror at the shuddering, shallow gasps coming from the youth. The boy's face was contorted with pure agony; it was so clear he was suffering…

And Edmund was suffering. Though he tried to wish away the pain, it would not leave him…He was barely aware of Peter cradling him close in those same, protective arms…

Peter looked up pleadingly at his sisters as Lucy and Susan fell beside him, their feelings mutual. Already, tears were streaming down Lucy's face as the girl softly cried…But wait- "_As if a flame had alit within her, she jammed her hand to her belt, fumbling over the clasp that held her cordial…"_ All at once, she gripped the bottle at her side, fumbling with the clasp in her state of terror before managing to toss it aside. With trembling hands, she tipped the bottle, letting a single, shimmering drop of liquid fall from the lip of the glass and on Edmund's open lips, silent cries coming from the dying boy.

Peter could not believe his very eyes- he could feel the strong, vibrant spirit ebbing away much to quickly; his brother's body beginning to fall limp in his arms; the drumming of Edmund's heart slowing; the boy's strained gasps growing fainter…

The drumming slowing…slowing…slowing…

Stopping.

All at once, the shuddering gasps faded, a soft look of tranquility passing over his brother's face. Peter's breath caught in his throat. _'No…no…NO!" _His brother wasn't dead; not again; no, no; it couldn't be; he can't, he can't-

_Cough_.

Peter blinked.

_Cough._

Once more, Edmund released a soft, spluttering cough, followed by a gasp of air. The elder boy faltered, stunned for a moment, now feeling the soft _thrum_ of his brother's heartbeat start anew as dark, sparkling brown eyes fluttered open drearily, another cough escaping Edmund.

With a slurred moment, the boy's vision returned, sliding thickly into view- Susan, covered in archer's leather armor, smiling relieved down at him, Lucy beside her, the girl's face stained with tears, though she was laughing. Edmund blinked blearily again, a soft smile curving his lips, now turning to look up at his brother.

Peter was frozen, thick tears still streaming down the youth's face. Then all at once, Edmund found himself collected in his brother's arms, pulled into a fierce embrace. His brother's breath's came in soft shudders, his whole frame trembling with shock. Edmund's eyes widened with a shock of his own, alarmed to find himself in his brother's arms; but after a moment, his smile returned, and he sighed with contentment.

Peter softly pulled away, his hands still clasping Edmund's shoulders, giving him a soft shake. Peter blinked, taking a good, long look at his brother. How could it be…? Why did Edmund have to do so much when it was _him_ who needed so much…A smile shone through the tears streaming down the elder's face.

And again, Edmund found himself amidst a loving embrace; with a laugh, Susan and Lucy joined in as well, putting everyone at equal levels of happiness. They were, at long last, together again…They had made through the devastation, the tears, the yelling (though perhaps not at each other)…

Then the moment passed as Edmund tensed suddenly beneath their arms, causing them to draw away, sending quizzical looks at their brother. The boy was staring, somewhat soberly, forward, past Peter. Peter turned to meet what Edmund was transfixed upon, and found himself gazing at Aslan, casting a soft breath across a stone satyr, which soon stumbled forward back into its life. The lion turned from the revived creature after a pause, locking his gaze with Edmund's.

Peter sensed there was something he did not know between his brother and Aslan as he let his gaze wander from soul to soul; his gaze finally locked on his brother. Two tears tumbled from the deep browns, causing a bout of alarm to course through Peter. _'No…not more bad news…not now…'_

"Ed…Edmund?" Lucy tentatively asked, a slight tremor running through her voice.

The boy blinked, seeming to come back from a daze; at the same time, another tear streamed down his face. Edmund glanced at Lucy, who now looked stricken, and offered a small, broken smile; though it was meant to be a friendly gesture, everyone could easily see the sorrow behind it.

A knot was quickly forming in Edmund's throat, keeping him a loss for words, though his mouth opened to speak. "Oh…Lucy….you shouldn't have healed me," he finally managed in a soft, strangled whisper.

"Ed, don't be silly," the girl replied much too quickly, a touch of fright betraying her voice.

A soft, spluttering laugh broke from her brother; it was humorless. "No, Lucy…You shouldn't have," he persisted in that same, strained whisper. By now, there was a small stream flowing from his eyes. "It's…it's too hard to say goodbye."

Now Peter took a stand. "Quit talking nonsense, Ed," he snapped, terrified now. When Edmund made no sign of speaking again, he turned to Aslan. "Aslan, what's going on?"

The Lion sighed. "Peter, I am not one who can work against the Emperor's magic; I did have the power to bring your brother back for a short while-"

"During the war?" Peter demanded angrily.

"Son of Adam, understand; had Edmund not proven himself an innocent soul, he would have been condemned for eternity." Edmund averted his eyes away from his siblings, a small drift of guilt catching him. "He has proven and saved himself from a terrible fate."

Then there was silence; terrible, torturing silence. Peter's hand, still on Edmund's shoulder, fell away in numbness as the elder boy slowly let the Lion's word seep through his mind, though he simply could not bear them. His little brother…his _only _brother…

"Aslan, there _has _to be a way." Edmund's trembling voice split the quiet. His gaze pressed the Lion, searching for any notion- a thread of alarm and annoyance ran through his consciousness; he caught the faintest hint of a smile in Aslan's face. Then, slowly, the terrified sorrow began to seep from his face. "There _is_ a way," he whispered.

"Dear heart, as I have said, _I _cannot work against the Deep Magic. It is impossible. But even if I could before, I couldn't now." All eyes were upon the golden Lion, who shook his mane slightly, flicking one ear, letting his secret smile show. "That is because _you_ already have."

Now Peter, Susan, and Lucy gazed at their brother, the faintest hints of relief and joy crossing through their faces; Edmund, however, contorted in question. "Aslan…I…_What?_" he stuttered, bewildered.

"Son of Adam, you fulfilled the Deep Magic already; When you died, you died according to the law- you were a traitor. When I sent you back, you were already blessed; and during the war, you heeded my words. Selflessly, you defended Peter with your life under _your _decision." Edmund blinked. "The traitor's blood had been spilled; as far as I'm concerned, you are no longer that Traitor."

The boy blinked again, twice, understanding…Slowly, a soft smile of hope crossed through his face. "So…" He was almost breathless; "I can stay?"

Aslan nodded, softly padding away to revive a nymph entrapped within stone, leaving the siblings to themselves.

Again, the four were left in silence, but it was no longer tense with hostility; grins were already curving through their lips.

Then, all at once, Edmund burst out laughing; not necessarily for humor…It was just so…_relieving_, so _wonderful._ He was back…He was, even more so, _saved_. Perhaps it would be a while before he could entirely feel at ease with himself. But for the moment, he was sitting, well and _alive,_ next to his siblings.

Lucy, ever present to show her bright, bubbling attitude, was soon to follow, clear wonderful laughter mixing with her brother's as she threw her arms around his neck. Soft laughter came from both Peter and Susan as they exchanged looks of relief and joy, watching as their younger siblings embraced.

And though no one saw them, Edmund shed soft, blissful tears; he was back with three of the people he loved most.

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**A/N: **So there you have it. Oh, by the way- if I don't gets more reviews, I'll put off that Epilogue...-blink cough blink- Please review, y'all, seriously. I need the inspiration. Especially with all the tensness of this move...There's, like, tense-mist all around...-glances around computer room; shudders; sinks down-

My goodness, this is the third time I've had to edit this since I turned it in... -laughs- Tell me if you see any errors, while you review...-blinks-  



	7. Together Again

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Really. REALLY!

**A/N: **Well...Ohmigoosdness. Here it is. But, everyone, just a hint: I'm upadating every chapter. Seriously. I went back I read through some of them, and I just thought, "Man, that's choppy!", so you might notice a few words or changes.

Our move is over! Yay. SO, we officially have internet. Obviously.

Anyways, here you go...I'm not entirely sure on it, but I hope it's good!

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**Epilogue**

_Three days later: _

_It is the day of the Coronation has come and the Pevensies have been crowned the Royals of Narnia. Now the party ensues…_

Laughing with each fumbled step, Peter kept his eyes on his feet, attempting, and failing miserably, to fake his way through the dance. Susan also shared his humor, having nearly given up on trying to coach Peter through each step, often being forced to twirl her feet to prevent her brother from stepping on them (accidentally, of course). She had managed to pick up the Narnian dances quite well, efficiently and gracefully floating through each one, as had Lucy. The High King paused a moment to glance at his younger sister, who was currently clasping the hands of Mr. Tumnus, who, Peter knew for a fact, that had already been dragged through four dances by the young Queen.

"Slower, Peter!" Susan giggled, slipping her grip from his for a moment to demonstrate before laying her hands once more in the poor King's grasp. He only watched, trying desperately to do his best, and managing to do a little better before the song ended. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, still laughing from the minutes of slight humiliation, before dropping into a small bow.

"T'was was a pleasure and, even more so, a miracle to dance with Your Highness," he announced in a mock, regal voice, earning him a good-natured smack on the shoulder.

"You were fine, Peter," she laughed, "You just need a little practice."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh, just lovely. Now I should attend dancing lessons?" He raised his head indignantly. "Besides, I was rather fine, if I do say so myself." But his grin showed otherwise. Susan only smiled and shook her head,

"Really, Peter; you are a brick." A melody began to trill through the air and Susan just about floated away to meet hands with a cheerful satyr. Peter watched her for a moment, grinning, before looking back at Lucy, who had managed to persuade Mr. Tumnus to dance once more, though it seemed the faun was sharing her bubbly attitude.

His gaze wandered through the crowded Throne Room, his sight passing over each creature, all of which who were having a simply delightful time.

But something had constantly nagged at him the past hour. Frowning slightly, he again watched his sisters; two of his siblings were here. A soft groan escaped the boy. _'Oh, Ed, where have you gotten to now?'_

With a tad of difficulty, and many muttered, "excuse me"'s, Peter managed to edge himself from the festivities, which Edmund had obviously slipped away from awhile back without Peter's knowing. Though, the older boy was hardly alarmed by that fact; his brother had been acting a bit strange lately.

He leaned exasperatedly on the stone balcony, letting his gaze wander for any trace of his brother, before letting fall out on the dark, sandy beaches facing the endless Eastern Sea. Softly, he began to descend the enormous stairways, occasionally glancing back at the small figure standing amid the water's edge.

Edmund had managed to quietly leave the party, effectively at that; he had began to feel a bit out of place, even though each Narnian he had encountered had simply given him a smile and a few respectful words of greeting, which he had returned earnestly. There had been something he had finally understood as he had sat in his rightful Throne, crowed a King of Narnia…

Perhaps it was the weight of _responsibility_ he simply wanted nothing to do with. The utmost _trust_ on all of the Narnians' faces had disgusted him. _Trust_ was the farthest possible feeling any being should have for him.

With a sigh, Edmund closed his fingers around a smooth rock, wiping the wet sand from it's face. It was of a midnight hue, faint traces of ivory threaded delicately through it. He began to raise his hand to fling it into the ocean's depths, then stopped. _Lucy might fancy this._ With that afterthought, he tightened his grasp on it, letting his hand fall by his side. He pulled his knees closer, resting his chin upon them as he stared dejectedly into the Sea's black waters reflecting the moon's glow.

His gaze flickered slightly, faintly alarmed by the sound of soft footfalls, but he was no fool. Daddy Peter or Mummy Susan wouldn't let him from sight for long. Sure enough, it was his brother who stopped by his side, falling silently beside Edmund.

"Ed?" Peter asked quietly; though he gazed at his brother, the brown orbs remained fixed on the soft waves. "What's up?"

The other boy blinked, as though returning from a daze, opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. Quickly, he muttered, "Nothing; Peter, you worry too much."

Peter blinked, slightly surprised, then began to snap, "Ed I do _not-"_ but stopped as Edmund winced, clearly bracing himself for a so familiar rebuke. Before Peter had thought nothing of it, always continued on; the conversation had never ended well. Their voices would soon rise to yells before one or the other stalked from the room, or, though it had only happened twice, began to hit each other.

But now Peter faltered, hurt somewhat as his brother turned away from him. Maybe, just maybe, he _did_ worry a bit much. Perhaps he had taken his father's advice to watch over the others a bit more forcefully than needed. Softy, he said, "I do, don't I?"

Edmund paused, momentarily alarmed by the break in Peter's scolding, and even more so at the words that followed the moment's silence. Opening his fist, he stared down at the smooth, round stone, choosing to remain silent for a moment. The thin traces of ivory had caught the moon's glow with a haunting note of light, shining innocently up at his face. Sighing heavily, he clenched his fist again, concealing the rock from sight before returning his locked gaze upon the rippling dark water.

"Sometimes," was his mumbled reply. Peter sighed raggedly, running a hand through his sun kissed hair.

"Ed…I'm sorry. I just…" He trailed off, slightly hesitant, before finally continuing. "Edmund, listen to me. I _do_ worry over you." He clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder, causing Edmund's head to jerk up, staring at him. "I always worried because I was afraid that something would happen to you. I have Susan and Lucy, and I love them, but I have only _one_ brother. But I worried over you to protect you _from_ what happened…But it happened anyway because I worried too much." Listlessly, he dropped his gaze. "It's my fault you died."

Almost immediately, Edmund smacked Peter's hand away. Slamming his fist into the coarse sand, he gritted his teeth in hate. "Shut _up,_ just _shut up!_" he snarled, anger leaping in his eyes. "Don't you _ever_ blame yourself for what happened."

Shocked, Peter stared at his fuming brother, now glaring at the sky. Edmund focused on one single flickering star, folded deliberately in the midnight heavens. "For God's sake, Peter, _shut up._ I was the one who accepted _Her_ and gave both your and the girls' lives; if I had had my way back then, you wouldn't have me, Su, Lu, or even yourself. I betrayed my family, Narnia, and Aslan-" He paused, ripping off the silver crown from his hair, scowling at it. "And yet I'm still crowned King of Narnia. It isn't _fair_, Peter! It's not _fair_ that they trust me! It's not _fair_ that you and Susan and Lucy trust me, let alone Aslan!"

"Edmund, Aslan said you were forgiven. We all did!" Peter hissed, almost annoyed. "You died, Ed, _twice_; yes, it was for just a second, but you left us on that battle field after Beruna. You would have died _again_; you would have left us_ for good_. But, thank Aslan, Lucy saved you; and even though she did, you still would have _gone_, but you _didn't _because you _were forgiven._ Don't you understand?" he added exasperatedly.

Still, Edmund clenched his teeth, his grip on the crown tightening all the more until the sharp tips of two silver leaves cut into the palms of his hands. Small streams of crimson tarnished the precious metal, Edmund watching them, delirious to the small pain, until he finally caved, dropping the blood-stained figure on the ground. Sagging, he raised his palms, blinking at the pool of blood drenching the stone he still held, shifting it so it slipped through his fingers onto the beach.

"Edmund…" The boy made no movement at his name, only bracing himself for Peter's exclamation of fright and disapproval. Naturally, he gave a start of surprise when his older brother pulled him into a one arm hug. "Oh, _Eddy,_ don't do this…I'm so worried about you, don't steep it…"

Edmund only closed his eyes, a single tear slipping from his lids. "Peter, I _can't_ be King, I just _can't."_

"Edmund, you have to. Narnia is counting on you; Susan and Lucy are counting on you; Aslan's counting on you; _I'm_ counting on you," came Peter's muffled reply. "Aslan crowned us Kings and Queens of Narnia because he knows all of us are needed to balance each other out." He pulled away, offering a small smile. "Magnificent, Gentle, Just, and Valiant; we're _all _needed Edmund…Meaning you're included."

Despite himself, he laughed quietly, shaking his head. "I don't deserve it."

"Ed, if you didn't deserve it, you wouldn't be here." Peter's voice had lost it's mirth; it was now both grave and firm.

Edmund blinked, recalling what Aslan had said- If he hadn't proven himself at the Battle of Beruna, he would have been _condemned_…Where _She_ had gone…He shuddered, a chill taking over him…The same chill he had endured before…He could feel the binding, heavy shackles clasping his ankles, the sense of terror and numbness, the sting of the ropes at his wrists, the stab of the Stone Knife-

"Ouch." Edmund clutched his side, muttering hotly under his breath.

"Edmund?"

"I'm fine, Peter; there you go again," he snapped, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

"Ed…"

Edmund scowled, dropping his hand back down to the sand, letting his fingers search the ground before they finally clutched the fallen stone again. Fumbling with it a moment, he dragged out the silence, clearly in no hurry to answer. He shivered. "I…It's too hard to explain…Right now."

Peter opened his mouth to press his brother, but simply closed it again at the look of fright on Edmund's face. So, instead, he smiled softly in understanding, taking a hold of his brother's hands. "We should bandage these."

A loud snort came from Edmund. "Peter, they're _punctures._ I won't die."

Peter made a face at him as Edmund dropped his crown back on his head; it landed crooked. The elder raised an eyebrow, leaning over to adjust it, then stood, announcing, "We'd better get back."

"Yes, or else dear mummy Susan will worry," scoffed Edmund as he snatched the stone up before standing. "Daddy Peter already has." Peter scowled, reaching a hand over to tousle his brother's hair. Edmund ducked quickly, but the High King was no fool. With a flick of the wrist, Peter snatched the silver crown, causing his younger brother to look up in disdain. "Peter...!" With a snort of laughter, Peter took his opportunity to run his fingers through the dark hair, leaving it a mess. Edmund blinked, scowling good naturedly as Peter twirled the crown.

"Peter...Give it back," he demanded with a note of laughter as he lunged for it. Peter only raised it, spinning Edmund's crown between deft fingers. "Peter!"

Peter only laughed. "_Please_ give it back," Edmund begged sweetly, ceasing his failing attempts to reach his crown to look up innocently at Peter. His brother raised an eyebrow, not falling for the pleading, and grinned. Edmund's eyes widened- "Peter...Peter you idiot!"

The High King had spun on his heels, taking off at a run back towards Cair Paravel, laughing triumphantly as he clutched the crown. Edmund growled, leaping after him, shouting, "You bambling idiot, get back here!"

"What, Ed; Too fast for you?" yelled Peter. Though, sooner than not, he was proved wrong as he was tackled to the ground with a yelp. Edmund pinned his brother to the ground, prying his crown from his brother's grasp.

"May- be smaller- and younger- but- still faster," chided Edmund between gasps as he waved his prize back and forth in front of his brother's face. Peter, still laughing, shoved Edmund off of him, propping himself up.

"Didn't this used to be swapped?" asked Peter presently. Edmund blinked, caught off guard by the question. Peter only grinned. "I caught you every time."

Edmund smiled smugly, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, but I was young."

"Are you not still?"

"I can't help that you're three years older than me," sniffed Edmund as he got to his feet, replacing his crown back upon his head. Peter followed suite, dusting sand from his tunic.

"Yes...But you are only twelve, Ed."

"And?"

Peter rolled his eyes, muttering between fits of laughter, "Just...Just never mind..."

"You're hopeless..." hissed Edmund.

---

"Edmund!"

The boy was still dusting sand from his tunic when he looked up to see a red faced, but clearly joyous, Lucy rushing up to meet him. Peter and Edmund shared slight smiles at their sister's state.

"There you are! And you, too, Peter...I've been looking for Edmund for awhile now."

"Well...Here I am, Lu."

She smiled. "Ed, will you dance with me?"

Edmund blinked, his cheeks flushing as Peter silently laughed behind him. Even at just those simple, six words, he felt his mouth go dry. His little sister wanted _him_, Edmund Joseph Pevensie, to _dance?_

'_She's mad.'_

"Well…Lu, I'm, erm, not that much of a _dancer,_" he stuttered. Lucy's smile dropped a little, her eyes growing round with a look of self pity. _'I will not dance…Oh, curse those innocent looks of hers…I will_ not_ dance…'_

"You had better, Ed," said Peter presently, as though reading his brother's thoughts. "She'll get you out there eventually. She's had me dancing several times already." Lucy blinked with sheepish pride. Edmund raised an eyebrow at her, taking half a step back; thus resulted in a slightly pushed out lower lip.

Edmund sighed in defeat, smiling slightly. "Fine, fine, Lucy, you win. But only _one_ dance." The girl gave a toothy grin, slipping her hand in his extended one. The boy glanced back at his brother, who was smiling triumphantly. Edmund rolled his eyes, letting himself be guided into the middle of the room.

Now…for the challenge; dancing. Lucy gently coached him through each fumbled step while she herself displayed her talent. Edmund could not help but admire his sister's effortless grace through the dance, and no matter hard he tried, he could not match her. Soon the song ended, and, though he opposed the idea, he once again he found himself hand in hand with Lucy as the new melody played out.

Through two more dances she led him, and with each one he slowly began to learn the steps, the effort easing. "That's it, Ed!" cried Lucy at the end of the song, clapping her hands together. He grinned, panting slightly nonetheless;

"Oh, please, Lucy; that was nothing compared to you." And even though it was quite actually the truth, Lucy shook her head.

"Really, Edmund!" she laughed. Without hesitating, she stepped forward, throwing her arms around him; and for the first time in many years, he didn't edge away from her. Though, he was alarmed at first…but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. She sighed, resting her head into his chest for a few moments until pulling away to gaze up at him; he was startled to see shining tears in those innocent eyes.

"Don't ever leave us again," she murmured. "Ed...I missed you so much."

Edmund's carefree features melted solemn, a slight guiltiness misting his gaze. Lucy's face was filled with hope; though, as he searched deeper, he caught the distinct scratch of past grief. He blinked with surprise; she _had_ mourned him...She had missed him.

Perhaps...Perhaps Peter had been right. Perhaps he was _needed_...was, truly, purely, _wanted_. He had a place in Cair Paravel, seated in one of the Four Thrones as King Edmund the Just. Just perhaps...

He lifted his gaze for a moment, letting his eyes flit the room a moment before they caught sight of the familiar, china-blue eyes. Peter was smiling already, leaning contentedly against the wall as he watched them, arms folded over his chest. Already, there seemed to be something about his brother that made him seem so much more _grown up_, so much _older_. Maybe it was the crown resting amid the golden hair, or the royal dressings he was garbed in...Or maybe Peter _had_ done a little bit of growing up. Maybe they all had. They all had grown up, leaving all of their old worries and fears behind them, save for the soft memory that taught them what was wrong and what was right.

Now it was Edmund's turn.

He smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her fair face. "I won't," he whispered. "I promise."

---

And so continued the fate of Narnia; blissful and wondrous, save for the slight uprisings of the remaining enemies of Narnia. Even so, the siblings remained close, aiding each other through each 'step' of each 'dance' they endured.

But even though Edmund somewhat understood what might have happened, he never would understand what would have happened, had Aslan not saved his soul that one fateful night.

Had he been lost from Narnia, Narnia itself would have been lost.

The day of the battle would be one of mourning. Peter, fending off enemy after enemy, tiring under heavy armour, refused to give in to the Witch's forces. Now facing two creatures, he felled one with a moment's difficulty, then turned to face the other. Raising his sword, he ran the beast through, pulling Rhindon from the slain creature. Whirling to face his next enemy, a pair of icy, cruel eyes filled his vision, causing him to falter in alarm. The Witch stood, both sword and wand raised-

And then there would a cry of pain…And then silence.

Susan; though she released each arrow accurately, another enemy took the slain soldier's place. Slowly, she and her ranks would be forced back, farther and farther from aid-

And then there would be an anguished scream…And then silence.

And as Lucy scoured the battlefields for her siblings, the Witch's army fled from sight as Aslan and the reinforcements rushed in upon them. But the girl would find them broken, slain cruelly in fate. And innocent little Lucy would fade in time, unable to strive without those who loved her.

And Aslan, the King of Kings, powerful Aslan, would weep for his country and his loss. With the prophecy shattered, he would gather those who were innocent and carry them to his Country Beyond the Sea. And Narnia, ungoverned and unwatched, would be corrupted by the remains of the Witch's followers, left in ruins until the stars fell from the sky, and all was silent.

And the lost, betrayed boy who had betrayed his family would be lost, condemned within anguish and torture, suffering. And though he cried and pleaded for forgiveness, it would echo soundlessly, silent to those with mercy.

But Aslan, merciful Aslan, saved him and the fate of his lovely country…And though we cannot know what _would_ have happened…We can only imagine what _could_ have happened.

Just like we can only imagine what _could_ have happened to our world, had not one so-called lowly man given himself for _us._

-FIN-

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**A/N: **So there you have it. I reallllly hope this was good for my first, completed fan fiction. Please; review this! Also, be on the lookout for two new Narnia fics I'm working on!

I would really like to thank all my readers and reviewers. You all helped me so much! -smiles; bows out-


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